


Guardian

by Supertights



Category: Midnight Texas Series - Charlaine Harris
Genre: Gen, To Be Fair Fiji Hated Snuggly First, cats are jerks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2019-06-17 21:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15470919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supertights/pseuds/Supertights
Summary: Mr Snuggly has always been grumpy.





	Guardian

It was no mistake that Mr Snuggly often slept under the porch where he could watch who came and went from Fiji’s home and store. He categorised the regular visitors according to his own internal system of measurement. Fiji was feeder but also love and family. Bobo was big soft blanket. The preacher hard strong wood. Lemuel was dusty cold flesh. He had words to describe all the citizens of Midnight, most were inoffensive.

As Fiji’s familiar, and her aunt’s before her, Mr Snuggly followed his ancient duties very seriously.

“Silly thing,” Fiji sometimes said when he placed an offering on her stoop. A mouse, hard won in battle, or pieces of a small snake, sometimes an insect he’d held down biting it until it’s head fell off dead. Birds were harder, he didn't catch birds often, leaping was not a strong point.

_“Speak for yourself,”_  he would reply, flicking his tail at her.  _“Ungrateful.”_

One could forgive him for being cantankerous in his old age, he barely got fourteen hours of sleep a day due to the many nights he sat inside by the window watching as something passed by, rebuffed by the protective spells on the house, and his own hisses and spits with arched back. He was truly proud that he could achieve such a fierce demeanour, his fur puffing up to three times as large-- well, his tail anyway.

“Whatever is wrong?” Fiji would ask, pulling the drapes a crack to peek out. She could not see evil as he could. “Hissing at shadows again?”

_“Harrumph,”_  he would answer.  _“How rude. True evil just slithered by and I scared it away. Stroke my back, it is unkempt.”_

She would sit then, for a time, beside him, stroking the fur along his spine, watching out the window thoughtfully. “Is it gone?” she might ask eventually. This usually coincided with his fur being smooth again.

He would nod and climb down, waiting beside his food dish expectantly. A few cat nuts for him and a glass of warm milk for her, and they would retire to bed for the night, where he would sit awake for many more hours, listening to the world beyond the walls. It was a world of danger and darkness that walked on two, occasionally more, legs. When it was safe, he would groom lightly and curl up to sleep, Fiji’s fingers resting against his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Something old that I wrote back when I read the first book in the series, could stand for the tv series as well.


End file.
